Resilient
by BelatedBeliever1127
Summary: With the passage of groundbreaking legislation, mutants are now free to walk openly on the surface and enjoy the same rights as any citizen. But the world takes time to change, and hate and injustice constantly rears up on both sides as the war for equality rages on. **2nd Place Best Crossover/AU and 3rd Place Best Raphael in the 2015 Stealthy Stories TMNT Fanfiction Competition
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone! So, this idea came to me when in the RP verse of tumblr (thank you to the lovely foureyedturtle for her inspiration), and I wanted to do my own take on a world where mutants were allowed to walk freely among humans... with the successes and pitfalls that befall our favorite turtle heroes. Thank you to all the wonderful people who encouraged me to get this story off the ground! You know who you are ;)**

 ***Disclaimer: I don't own TMNT... just the OCs and the plot are mine.**

 **I hope everyone enjoys!**

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"This is it, ain't it?"

Raphael glanced up from his bunk at his cellmate's slouching form leaning against the bars of their cell. The large, muscular bulldog mutant who called himself 'Tank' stared at him with small eyes that were nearly obscured by his overhanging brow. His jowls dripped with uncontrollable slobber that might have looked comical if it weren't common knowledge that he was serving two life sentences for killing a couple of human teenagers with his teeth and claws. With a muted shrug of his shoulders, Raph replied shortly.

"Yeah, this is it."

"So, yer finally sprung. What's it been... Ten years ya been here? I lost track..."

"Eight."

Tank shook his rectangular gray head sharply, his floppy ears flapping wildly and globs of spit flying in all directions. Raph grimaced at the sight and turned his attention away to stare at the bare grey wall in front of him. It was almost over. All he could do now was wait, but it wouldn't be for much longer. At eight o'clock, he would be a free turtle.

The bulldog's gruff growl came to him again, as low and menacing as a chainsaw.

"How's it feel, Red? To be leavin' this stinkin' hellhole fer good?"

The use of his nickname had become so commonplace that Raph barely even responded to his own name anymore. He'd come to lockup wearing his old red mask, and the rest was history. He hadn't worn the mask for nearly six years, but every inmate in the yard knew him as 'Red' and he'd learned to live with it.

"Like any other day, I guess," Raph replied with a shrug, looking up at the clock on the wall. _Five more minutes..._

He didn't really feel like talking to Tank, who was nothing but a common street thug who had willingly mutated himself to increase his street cred, but in a place like this, mutants had to stick together. Tolerating the presence of scumbags like this guy was a huge reason why Raph was still alive, and mostly unscathed. The rest of it came from the fact that he was still able to defend himself when the need arose.

"Got any plans for when ya get out?" The dog asked as he lazily scratched at an itch on one ear.

Raph bit the inside of his cheek to keep the exasperated sigh from passing his lips. _You only have to deal with this for a few more minutes. That's all. Just keep your cool._

"Not really. Just wanna go home, get on with my life. Forget this whole thing ever happened."

He had hoped that the gangbanger would be satisfied with such a short answer, but clearly, he was not that lucky. Tank pushed himself off the bars and leaned down to look into Raph's bunk. The dog's rancid breath reeked of rotting meat and cabbage, which were two odors that Raph was fairly sure didn't go together.

"Ya know, my gang could use someone like ya if yer interested. They run a lot of high end merchandise out of Midtown: drugs, guns, the works. I could put in a good word fer ya if yer interested in joining up."

Raph turned his head slowly until met his cold, beady eyes. How stupid did the mutt think he was?

"No thanks," he said, "I'm not gonna do anything that gets me back in this place again."

Tank held his gaze for a long time before nodding in full acceptance of what Raph was saying. Prison might be bad enough for a human, but for a mutant, it was about ten times worse; and that was if you were one of the tough ones. Most of them didn't make it out alive, and both of the mutants knew that fact all too well.

"Yer loss, Red. Ya could'a made somethin' of yerself; could'a even run the show. Ya got the stuff. Take that as a compliment; I don't give 'em out easy."

Raph considered telling Tank where he could stick his compliment, but decided that it wasn't worth it. You didn't make enemies with a guy like that, even when he was locked up. He had friends on the outside that could make life really bad for someone who had insulted him in any way. Instead, he just shrugged and fixed his eyes on the clock hanging over the bars, urging the seconds to move faster. After what felt like an eternity, the hands of the industrial analog clock pointed to eight o'clock exactly. Showtime.

"Inmate Raphael Hamato! Public roll up!" A voice boomed from just past Raph's line of sight.

Raphael stood stiffly as the corrections officer, a short, pudgy man appeared at the cell door. He fumbled with his keys for almost a minute before finding the correct one, inserting it into the lock and pulling open the heavy door.

"L-Let's go," the little man stammered nervously, as he stepped aside for Raph to pass. Grunting an acknowledgment, he did and the CO slid the door closed behind them.

"Hey Red!"

Raph turned back to look at Tank one last time. The giant dog was standing at the bars, draping his arms out and crossing in front of the iron bars. He gave him a sloppy grin, half a dozen teeth sticking out from behind his dripping jowls.

"Good luck. Yer gonna need it." he said ominously with a sly wink.

A chill of foreboding ran down Raph's shell. He wasn't sure if this was a threat or if it was just less than friendly advice. Either way, he wasn't eager to ask the dog what he'd meant. Without a word, he turned away and strode quickly away from the cell. The CO struggled to keep up with him and Raph could hear him puffing like a worn out steam engine. Begrudgingly, he shortened his stride, allowing the little man to catch up to him. A chorus of jeers and taunts echoed as they passed through the cell block; mutants and humans alike catcalling and threatening, but Raph ignored them. They were all full of hot air. Nothing to concern himself with.

Tank had been right. If he'd really wanted to, he could have run this place, but he'd known that if he did, he would never get out. He'd be a criminal for life, and that kind of thing did not appeal to him at all. All he wanted to do was to go sleep in his own bed and eat some decent food for a change. Mikey's cooking was adventurous, but surely it would beat canned pork and beans and a kick in the ass.

They didn't stop until they came to a thick steel door that lead to the office where Raph would be given his personal property and be discharged. The guard, Raph couldn't quite remember his name, typed in a ten digit code. The keypad indicator turned green and he turned the handle, opening the door.

The receiving and discharge office was dimly lit and smelled like mold and stale air, like there hadn't been any ventilation in that wing for twenty years. Probably hadn't. An old, dumpy man with a military haircut looked him over with a self-righteous sneer from behind his plexiglass divider. Raph met his eyes squarely as the man slid the foot high door aside and checked his clipboard.

"Raphael Hamato, inmate number 154437569, right?"

"That's me, boss."

The man grunted without much interest as he reached under the counter. He pulled out a large brown paper bag and dropped it with a thud on the blue linoleum surface. Without much care, he pulled it open and began pulling out various items, listing them as they emerged.

"Red hooded sweatshirt, one pair blue jeans, white t-shirt, one pair of trainers, wallet, set of keys, cell phone, red… cloth scrap." The man scrutinized the last entry momentarily, then shrugged.

"Sign here for them."

He pushed a clipboard with a sheaf of paper attached to them and a ballpoint pen. Raph took the pen and scrawled his signature on the form proffered to him while the man behind the counter roughly shoved the items back into the bag. As soon as he finished with that form, he turned to the next ones; mostly of them having to do with where he was living and other crap like that.

 _What a fucking waste of time_ , he thought grudgingly as he scribbled all of the information onto the legal looking paper. The CO who had escorted him stood by the door, nervously picking at a hangnail as he watched Raph with a wary eye. The unbroken stare was really setting his nerves on edge and he was about to ask the guy what the hell he was staring at when a high, jovial voice broke the tension.

"I can take it from here, Tom."

Raph smiled at the familiar voice and turned to see Sam Faraday standing beside him. The young corrections officer was tall and lean, with tightly curly black hair and a generous smile, which he directed at Raph. Tom, his face awash with relief at the dismissal, tapped in the code and hastily disappeared behind the thick steel door.

"I heard that today was the big day, so I thought I'd come to say goodbye in person before I started walking the block," Sam said as he took the clipboard out of Raph's hand to check that the paperwork was in order.

Raph bumped knuckles with the kid in greeting. He'd always liked Sam, ever since the kid had walked through the gates five years earlier, brand new to the job. His aloof, carefree nature had reminded him a lot of Mikey, as well as the fact that he always smiled, no matter how shitty the inmates and other guards treated him. That was a big reason why when one of the lifers had started hassling Sam during his first week of walking the block, Raph had stepped in and advised the guy to back off. He'd gotten a broken jaw for his trouble, but Sam had made sure that he'd been given a cushy spot in sick bay during his recovery.

Since then, Sam had always had Raph's back, and in return, he'd shown the kid the ends and outs of the prison. It was a quid pro quo kind of system, but the young CO picked it up very quickly. Sam would hear word of upcoming riots or escape attempts before anyone else, and in exchange, Raph received phone cards to talk to his family. Everybody seemed to win; well, except the guys whose plans had been foiled.

"Got a place to go?" Sam asked curiously as he flipped through the last of the forms and slipped them back through the plexiglass divider.

"Yeah. My brother said I can stay with him until I get a place of my own."

"Is he picking you up?"

"Nah, just thought I'd take the bus. Mikey usually sleeps in until about ten anyway."

Sam grinned, then started when he caught sight of the clock over the door.

"Shit, I've got to get back to work." He pointed to a niche that opened into a short hallway behind them. "There's a washroom over there so you can change into your street clothes. Go down the hall and to the right; you can't miss it."

"Thanks, Sam. I appreciate it."

The correction's officer flashed his movie star smile then held out his hand for Raph to shake.

"I hope we meet again under different circumstances, Red."

Raph looked at the offered hand for a moment, puzzled, then felt a flood of gratitude as he took it.

"Yeah. Sure."

He released the hand and watched as Sam strolled lazily to the heavy door, punched in the code and closed the door behind him.

Sam had been one of the only humans in the place to treat Raph with any kind of dignity during his time on the inside. The rest of them had treated him like garbage. He couldn't count how many times he had been smacked around by a guard for just standing in their breathing room for so long. But he wouldn't fight back. He had needed to prove that he could be safe outside, and he had worked his ass off trying to keep his beak clean.

He walked down the hall, stepped into the washroom and shut the door behind him. He was suddenly glad that Mikey had made sure to bring clothes that fit. He was sure that the clothes he'd been booked in wouldn't fit him anymore. He carefully removed the orange jumpsuit and slipped on the pair of faded jeans, then the white undershirt, and finally, the red hoodie.

Before mutants were brought into the public eye, it had been acceptable for he and his brothers to not wear human clothes, but now, social norms dictated that he wear them, unless they wanted to pay fines for indecent exposure. He'd found clothes itchy and uncomfortable for a very long time, but now he donned them without any difficulty.

He was surprised that his custom-made tennis shoes were still among his possessions. They could have been hawked for a few hundred bucks easily and just written off as a fuck-up of the corrections department. Whatever. There was no way that he would look this gift horse in the mouth. He slipped the shoes on and tied the laces deftly.

Once he had dressed, he reached into the bag to fish out the remaining items, like his wallets, keys and his T-Phone, which, as he had expected, was long dead. At the bottom lay a scrap of tattered red cloth, with two eye holes cut out of the center. It had been so long since he'd seen it, he almost didn't recognize it. Fishing it out, Raph held it in his hands for a long time and rubbed the faded material between his fingers, feeling the softness of it against his skin.

It represented everything that he had once been: a mutant turtle, hiding in a sewer, away from the prying eyes of the world. The surface world was a place that, for the first fifteen years of his life, had been a mystery. Even after they were allowed to travel outside of their safe haven under the cover of darkness, there had been danger, excitement. But the lives that they had led were so much different than that of the humans. Raph had spent most of his life wondering what it would be like to have the kind of freedom that they possessed; not having to hide who they were and getting to do the things that they wanted to do. There was only so much that a mutant could do to give his life meaning.

Then, all of a sudden, like the answer to the most secret of prayers, the golden gates had been opened to them with the president signing of the Equal Rights for Mutants and Aliens Act into law almost ten years before. Mutants and aliens of all kinds could now be recognized as citizens of the United States, with all of the rights and privileges that came with it. Opportunity had been laid out before them like an all you can eat buffet, ready for the taking. Raph and his brothers now had the opportunity to do everything they had ever wanted to do. They could get jobs, have homes, get lives of their own. They no longer had to hide their faces from the world.

But there was a cost to getting everything they had ever wanted, as they quickly discovered. And the cost had been an infestation of humans who were convinced that they were monsters and that they didn't deserve to have the same kind of equality that they had. They had expected people to still be afraid of them, but they did not expect the kind of senseless brutality that came from single minded humans that did not want the influence of mutants around them or their children. The exclusion, the riots, the picketing of government buildings to revoke the law was enough to make any mutant give up hope. And many of them had.

Raph stuffed the mask into his back pocket along with his keys, wallet and T-Phone. He would decide what to do with it later.

The man behind the counter glowered at him as he passed through the office on the way to the main reception area. The garish light from the industrial lights blinded him as pushed through the door. A grandmotherly woman sitting at the chipped wooden desk offered him a weak smile, which he gave no effort to return. He was weary down to the marrow in his bones, and he just wanted to go back home.

Stepping out onto the sidewalk, Raph shivered at the bite of the October chill. It really sucked to be cold blooded. There was a bus stop about half of a mile away, which usually stopped there at about half past nine. He should just make it. Sticking his hands in his pockets, he ambled through the prison parking lot toward the bus stop.

The glass that surrounded the bus stop was covered in graffiti and crude spray paintings of dicks and what Raph guessed were supposed to be boobs. Classy New York. A man wearing a set of large earphones interrupted jamming to the hard rock song he was listening to to stare at Raph and his giant biceps. The look was uncomfortable and annoying, so Raph met his gaze until the man looked away awkwardly.

A large forest green bus that could have been driving the streets for a couple of decades rumbled up the street and Raph stood a little more at attention. The bus shuddered to a stop at the curb, its undercarriage groaning piteously as the brakes hissed. The doors slid open and he stepped up into the bus ahead of the guy with the headphones. The driver looked him over with a distrustful expression.

"Got enough for the fare?"

Raph wordlessly handed him a five dollar bill and headed back to find a seat. The bus was nearly full, only a few seats were unoccupied. A few of the passengers eyed him suspiciously as he approached, probably thinking that he was going to hijack the bus and take them all to Quebec or something.

Looking around, he saw an old man sitting in the middle of the bus, clutching the handle of a small duffel bag in the seat next to him. Raph approached him and offered his most disarming smile. The man saw him and the look on his face reminded Raph of Mikey's face when they used to tell ghost stories as kids.

"Excuse me, can I sit here?" He beckoned toward the seat where the duffel bag was sitting. The old man looked hesitantly between him and the bag, then shook his head.

"I... I need my bag next to me. Sorry."

"Oh, come on, man! You could put it in your lap..."

"I-I said no! Just go away..." The old guy was quivering in terror, like Raph had sprouted horns and a set of bat wings.

"Hey!" The bus driver called irritably, looking in the rear view mirror. "Take a seat or get off the bus!"

Raph's eye twitched and he was about to tell the driver to mind his own damn business with someone tugged on the back of his hoodie.

"There's a seat here," said a squeaky voice.

A teenager in a backwards baseball cap waved at an empty seat next to him. Raph grunted his thanks and sat down heavily in the seat. The bus groaned loudly as it pulled away from the stop and rumbled down the street.

Raph felt the kid's eyes searching him earnestly. He ignored the stare and looked around the bus. He was the only mutant among the passengers, and he stuck out like a sore thumb. Pulling his hood over his head, he hunkered down in his seat and half wished that he'd taken Leo's offer to have him picked up. He just hadn't wanted to face his brother's judging gaze so soon after achieving his freedom, otherwise, he would have consented. All of these slack jawed humans staring at him was really starting to piss him off.

"So, you just got outta jail, huh?" the kid next to him asked with ghoulish curiosity. Raph shrugged indifferently, still not looking at him. "What did you do?"

"I killed a kid who asked too many questions," Raph said offhandedly. All color ran out of the kid's face and he didn't say another word to him for the rest of the journey. That suited Raph just fine.

Finally, the bus clattered up to a stop with a hiccup and a cough of pitch black smoke. Raph disembarked from the bus as quickly as he was able and looked around the busy sidewalk. Mikey's apartment building was only about twelve blocks from there so he figured that he would just walk. Sticking his hands in his pockets, he lumbered up the street in the direction of the building.

A cat-like mutant woman passed by him at a street corner, her black coat shining in the morning sun and her pointed ears lying flat against her head. Her bright yellow eyes were bright with unshed tears as she looked away from him to an indeterminate spot on the sidewalk. He vaguely wondered what could have made her so upset for only a moment before seeing the fresh ketchup and mustard stains on the back of her blouse. Some bastard had thrown his hot dog at her...

He was so distracted by the realization that he didn't see the tall man in a business suit until he almost collided with him. The man's eyes flashed with annoyance as he glared at Raph, a snarl turning his face into a grotesque mask of disgust and rage.

"Get back in your hole, freak!" the man shouted in his face, shoving him out of the way. Raph growled savagely, but didn't fight back. He'd just gotten out of prison; if he went straight back within half an hour for beating down some self-satisfied stuffed shirt, Leo would never let him live it down. He was already going to have a hard enough time facing Mr. Perfect Turtle once there wasn't a two inch thick plexiglass window separating them. All he could do was to grit his teeth, keep his eyes straight ahead and lumber on without a word.

A woman hurried her child past him quickly, casting a furtive glance at him as they passed. He wasn't really offended at the gesture. The years hadn't exactly been kind to his appearance and as a result, he did faintly resemble a monster.

He'd had plenty of scars before he went inside, but he had collected several more from various brawls and scuffles. He now had large, jagged scars on his face, one of them curling his lip into a permanent snarl, which made him look especially menacing. He'd also bulked up to almost twice his original muscle mass and his skin had become thicker and more scaly than it had been when he was a teenager. He had worked hard to make himself look as threatening as possible, and now, his form was enough to frighten men, women and children alike.

 _Once a monster, always a monster_ , he supposed glumly as he considered his reflection in the window of a hair salon. One of the women inside glared at him for a moment before Raph decided to move on. No need to cause a scene.

A rumble of thunder echoed over his head, pulling Raph's attention to the dark storm clouds looming overhead. He grimaced as the first drops of cold autumn rain sprinkled on his hoodie. _Damn_ , he thought as he hurried up the the sidewalk, _Should've thought this though a little better…_

He hoped that Mikey had breakfast waiting for him when he got to the apartment. What he wouldn't give for a hot cup of real coffee right now... After nearly mowing down a group of teenagers who had also been caught in the storm, Raph ran full tilt toward the apartment building. One hour out of incarceration and so far... It was all amounting to shit.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey everybody! Thanks to everyone who read, reviewed and showed your support for my new story! You guys have been amazing and I encourage you to keep leaving your feedback and letting me know what you think! Enjoy!**

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The storm had successfully thinned the amount of people on the sidewalk, so Raph didn't have to fight the crowd as much as he might have on a sunny day. This would cut his time getting to Mikey's building by half, at least. Nevertheless, he jogged up the sidewalk, skirting past pedestrians and loiterers alike as the rain intensified into a full downpour.

A lot of the bodegas and curio shops had changed over time, as well as several of the independent sidewalk vendors, but he had traveled this route so often that he could walk it with his eyes closed. He and his brothers had shared this apartment for over a year, and even when the others had decided to move out, Mikey had wanted to stay; to keep the memory of the time they had spent as a family alive, he had said.

Shortly after the mutant equality law was passed, the Hamatos had decided to move out of the lair and pitch in to live in a shabby two bedroom apartment, which was all that they could collectively afford at the time. Master Splinter had passed away six months before the law came into being, so there was nothing holding them there. Also, there was a clause somewhere that had stated that they needed an actual surface residence as part of their registration, and a lair in the sewers didn't exactly have a mailing address.

The four of them had busted their asses working odd jobs to scrape together enough money to make rent, pay bills, and eat with what was left over. Everything had been very scarce for them, but a lifetime of scavenging and sharing everything had prepared them for living rough. The living space was cramped and they had had to work around each other's sleep and work schedules, which kept the tension high constantly. It got to the point where Raph could barely stand to go home, and a lot of the time, he didn't. In the end, that was what got him in trouble.

Their fortunes changed dramatically when Donnie had sold his first invention. It turned out that as the inventor of a fully automated artificial intelligence, he was worth billions of dollars. Since Donnie now had money to burn, each member of the Hamato family could do basically whatever they wanted. He had helped Leo finance his dojo, Mikey's pizzeria... and Raph's legal defense team. In retrospect, Donnie was the reason that Raph wasn't serving a life sentence. Every time he had seen his brother give an interview on television or mentioned in the news, he remembered that, and the fact that he had never actually thanked him for it.

As a condition of his release, Raph had had to agree to live with one of his brothers in the city. Donnie had moved to Geneva when his reputation as an inventor skyrocketed him to stardom, so he wasn't an option. And there was no way he would stay with Leo. Raph would rather be back in his eight by ten cell with Tank. So, by default, Mikey was the choice for a roommate. Sure, he was a little pain in the ass, but he wasn't impossible to live with, plus he had readily agreed to Raph moving in with him.

Raph ducked under the faded green awning that covered the front door of the building and threw his sopping wet hood back over his shoulders. He was soaked to the skin and was ready to get out of the chilly air. Wiping his face with the back of his hand, he looked disinterestedly at the facade. The building hadn't changed much in the time that he'd been away. It still had the broken brick exterior and the same rusty metal railing that lined a cracked set of concrete stairs. Even most of the names on the callbox were the same. He leaned down to get a better look at the scrawled names written beside each of the faded buttons.

There it was: **3C - Hamato**. Raph reached out and pressed the thick black button next to the name. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he spoke loudly into the intercom.

"Um… Hey, it's me… Raph."

It only took a split second for the door to buzz and the lock to click audibly open. Raph caught the door and pulled it open. It squeaked loudly on its rusty hinges, making him grimace harshly at the sound. He pulled the door closed behind him and scanned the hallway appraisingly. Even on the inside, everything looked about the same: same pictures on the walls, same rug in front of the door, even the same decorations sat haphazardly on the side table.

The building super, a stocky man with a tinge of reddish hair around a shining bald spot, eyed him suspiciously as he entered. Raph knew exactly what that look meant. Not only was he a mutant, but also an ex-con to boot. Better watch out for this guy. No telling what he might do.

He climbed up the wooden stairs that led to the apartments, each step groaning grievously under his weight. The lights in the hallway flickered ominously and Raph thought for a moment that a ghost or a serial killer might jump out of the shadows and attack him. Apartment 3C was the third door down from the stairs. He recognized the worn tan welcome mat that lay sprawled in front of the wooden door and knew he had found the right place. Mikey would keep the same ratty old things forever unless someone purposefully got rid of them before he knew what was happening.

Raph raised a tentative hand and rapped twice on the door. There was a hasty shuffling from within, followed by a muffled voice calling through the door. Raph looked around at the dim hallway, wondering cynically how long it had been since the super had been up here to do any repairs. The guy probably took his sweet time in responding to complaints from his mutant occupants. _Dickhead_...

He didn't have any more time to think about it because the door flew open and Michelangelo bolted into the hallway, his arms wide and a huge grin spread across his face.

"Raph!"

Mikey's wild tackle took him off of his feet and the two of them tumbled together into a heap onto the floor. Raph could barely breathe from the intense pressure of his little brother's embrace around his neck.

"It's great to have you home, dude!" Mikey's tear filled voice was muffled, since his face was buried in Raph's hoodie. Awkwardly, the older turtle patted his brother's shell, attempting to comfort him.

"It's great to be back, little brother."

Unlike Raph, Mikey had taken to human clothes like a duck to water. Or rather, a turtle to water. He had outfits for every occasion, from full suits to casual wear, even sets of pajamas. Today, he was dressed in a tank top, emblazoned with 'Sun's Out, Guns Out!' across the chest, a pair of baggy canvas shorts and braided hemp sandals, surrounding his toes. He didn't seem to care that Raph was soaking wet from the heavy rain based on how tightly he was clinging to him. The embrace had been dearly missed, though the larger turtle would never admit it aloud.

"What's going on out there?" a thin voice inquired impatiently from down the hall. Raph craned his neck and saw an elderly woman with frizzy white hair peeking out from behind her door, a scowl painting her wrinkled face. Mikey untangled himself from the dogpile and rose to his feet, dusting himself off.

"Sorry, Mrs. Jorgensen," he apologized, a little shamefaced. "My bro just came home from-"

"Nice to meet you," Raph interrupted as he pushed himself to his feet as well, not wanting Mikey to mention the word 'jail'. She looked like the kind of old lady who held strong prejudice against things like that, and he didn't want to make any enemies after only being out for two hours.

The woman's face softened instantly and she stepped out into the hall, leaving her door open a crack. She was dressed in a fuzzy pink robe and tattered baby blue slippers that slapped the wooden floor softly with every step as she approached.

"Well, if it isn't Raphael. It's a pleasure to meet you at last. Mikey has told me so much about you already. Please, call me Marlene."

Puzzled, Raph shook the wizened hand the woman held out to him. Apparently, Mikey had really played him up to be some kind of hero instead of a dumbass ex-con. He suddenly felt very inadequate next to this very trusting little old lady. Before he'd even realized what was happening, Marlene had dropped his hand and turned her attention to back to Mikey.

"Mikey, dear, since I've got you here, I wanted to ask a favor. Would you mind watching Mr. Nettles for me this afternoon when I go to my appointment? It will only be for an hour."

"Sure thing, Mrs. J!"

She grinned widely, her wrinkled cheeks pulled up into a big smile that exposed her obviously false teeth.

"Oh, thank you! I'll bring him over at about one o'clock. You two boys come over and visit whenever you like. I'd better go get myself looking presentable. It's so nice to meet you, Raphael."

"You too…," he replied, feeling very stupid as Marlene padded back inside her apartment and gingerly shut the door behind her.

"You've gotten nicer neighbors since I've been gone," Raph commented dryly as he followed Mikey inside. He peeled off the dripping wet sweatshirt and hung it up on a coatrack. The younger turtle's freckled face lit up at his comment and nodded enthusiastically.

"Oh yeah! Mrs. J is always so nice! Last year, she had all of us over for Christmas dinner and even gave us all presents!"

Raph felt a dark surge of jealousy course through him as he remembered how he'd spent that Christmas night alone, scrubbing dishes in the mess hall. Sure, the guys had come to visit him for an hour before that, but their words of concern and sympathy in that visiting room had felt fake and shallow. It had been more like a slap in the face or a wedgie in front of a crowd of people than any kind of comfort.

He shook the thought out of his head a split second before Mikey grabbed his hand, dragged him into the kitchen, practically threw him into a chair at the heavy wooden table.

"I made you a 'Welcome Back to Society' breakfast!"

With excitement barely teetering on the brink of giddiness, Mikey pushed a large plate of huevos rancheros in front of him, loaded up with refried beans, extra salsa and wedges of avocados stretched into the shape of a fan on top of the runny egg yolks.

Raph looked down at the eggs and felt his stomach contracting on itself. After all the terrible food he'd been subjected to over the past years, he was glad to see anything edible, even if Mikey made it. Luckily, it looked like Mikey had toned down his level of adventure to make him his favorite breakfast. Picking up his fork, he sawed through the egg and tortilla and stabbed at the piece greedily. The salsa had a bold kick to it when he placed it in his mouth, and Mikey had used just enough cilantro that it didn't overpower it. It tasted like something he might get in a restaurant; might have been even better. He made a mental note to go check out Mikey's pizza place sometime.

"God, Mikey, this is so good!" He mumbled around his mouthful of food before scooping up another forkful.

Mikey beamed brightly at the compliment as he poured a mug of coffee for him and a large glass of chocolate milk for himself. Raph didn't come back up for air until the plate was completely empty and he was scraping the remaining salsa and beans off of the surface.

"Got more?" Raph asked hopefully. Proudly, Mikey took the plate out of his brother's hands.

"Comin' right up, brah!"

Raph drained his mug, then rose from his seat for a refill. There was an old plastic drip coffee maker sitting on the counter that was really only in use when Donnie or Raph was around. Otherwise, it just sat around gathering dust.

"So, where's Don and Leo?" He asked as he poured the inky black beverage into his chipped mug. "Thought they'd be here to welcome me back."

"Donnie's doing some lecture thing in London this afternoon," Mikey said, breaking a couple of eggs over the hot skillet. "He's coming back tomorrow to see you."

Raph took a deep draft from his mug. The robust flavor warmed him down to his toes and he sighed contentedly. God, nothing could replace real coffee...

"What about the Fearless Leader?"

Mikey's posture went instantly rigid before he picked up a can opener and began opening the can of refried beans.

"He was scrubbing graffiti off the front of his dojo again before the rain started."

The kitchen fell into a grim silence as he threw a few tortillas into the pan with the sizzling eggs, then started dumping ingredients for the salsa mixture into a bowl. His brows were creased in a scowl and he stirred the contents of the bowl with more vigor than was necessary.

"Damn those protesters," Mikey muttered resentfully as he flipped the tortillas onto a plate, followed by the eggs. "It's gotten a lot worse the last couple of years... Ever since they proposed that mutant marriage bill and that human purist group started being jerks. They've been fighting with those mutant rights groups like crazy, dude. It's been seriously scary for everybody and people have getting hurt."

Raph nodded slowly. He'd seen a lot about humans and mutants rioting on television over the past few years about their own agendas. Mostly, the demonstrations had been about how each group's civil rights were being squashed by the other. The media hadn't been timid in displaying the destruction left behind by the chaos, usually casting more negativity and criticism on the mutant population than on humans. Subtle hints and suggestions are usually all that are needed to incite rage against those who are different. Sometimes, Raph wondered what they got out of feeding the hatred between the two groups.

Mikey arranged the wedges of avocados on the top of the dish and set it in front of his brother with the flourish of an experience waiter. Raph wordlessly thanked him before shovelling more of the food into his mouth.

"So what was it really like?" Mikey asked curiously as he took the empty chair next to Raph's and grabbed his glass of chocolate milk.

"What was what really like?" Raph asked as he took another huge bite out of the salsa covered eggs.

"Prison," Mikey said in an exasperated tone. "The slammer, the clink, the cooler?"

Raph hesitated for a moment, his eggs suddenly tasting like cardboard on his tongue. He didn't want to tell him all of the terrible stuff that happened there. Mikey would never leave him alone if he did. He had to say _something_ … The silence was proving that he had something to hide.

"Boring," he finally replied before taking a deep draft from his mug. "Spent most of my time reading or working out. Not much more to do than that."

"You? Reading?" Mikey's look of disbelief was grossly exaggerated. Raph growled and threw his fork at Mikey's head. It soared harmlessly past and landed in the soapy sink with a wet 'plop.'

"Shut up, doofus. When all you have is time, you gotta do what you gotta do."

"Just tell me you didn't read those awful teenage vampire romance novels, or those kinky bondage sex ones," Mikey teased with a cheeky grin.

"Spent more time with Jason Bourne and Jack Reacher, actually."

Raph swallowed the rest of his coffee and stood from the table to drop it and his empty plate in the sink. Mikey's brow creased in curiosity turned to watch him.

"What books did those guys write?"

Raph seriously considered smacking him for being an idiot, but he stayed his hand. It wasn't worth the effort. "Never mind," he grumbled as he shook his head. Some things never changed.

Mikey's blue eyes suddenly brightened with remembrance. He bounced to his feet, leaving his half drunk chocolate milk forgotten on the table. Grabbing Raph's arm again, he half dragged his brother down a short hallway and pushed open a door to expose a dark bedroom.

"I got your room ready for ya, bro. All your stuff is set up and I even left a chocolate on your pillow. I tried folding your towel into a swan, like they do in those fancy hotels, but I couldn't make it fold right, so it's on the edge of your bed."

The room indeed have all of Raph's old stuff in it, probably pulled out of cold storage for his return. His drum set sat in a far corner next to a stack of ninja and motorcycle magazines. Even several of his posters from the old lair were tacked up on the walls with thumbtacks. It all looked so normal, but he felt like if he stepped into the space, everything in it would shatter like fine china. It would take time to get used to having his own stuff again, but he couldn't wait to get started.

Raph smirked to cover up his trepidation and put his brother in a gentle headlock, scrubbing his knuckles against his bald pate in a good-natured noogie.

"Thanks, little brother. Think I'm gonna break the bed in for a couple of hours. I could use a little shut-eye."

"No prob, bro," Mikey said graciously. "I'm gonna call Leo and see if he can hang with us tonight."

Raph grimaced at the thought, but knew that he couldn't avoid seeing him forever. It was probably best to just get it over with.

"Yeah, sure."

"Want me to tuck you in?" Mikey asked from just outside the door. Raph shook his head without looking at him.

"Nah, I'm good."

"A bedtime story?"

"No!"

"How about some warm milk?"

"Mikey, I swear to God...!"

"G'night Raphie," Mikey crooned sweetly as he pulled the door closed. Snorting in mock annoyance, Raph practically fell into the bed, glad to be sleeping on something larger than a twin sized bed. He noticed the debatable 'chocolate' and smiled when he saw that it was definitely a wrapped up Dove chocolate. He unwrapped the candy and read the message on the inside of the crumpled foil. 'Don't look back and ask why, look forward and ask why not.' _Leave it to a freakin' candy wrapper to give me advice,_ he thought ruefully as he popped the chocolate into his mouth.

He rolled onto his carapace and interlocked his fingers behind his head. His eyes traced the designs of the water damage on the ceiling as he listened to the soothing sounds of the rain pounding against the paned glass window. Such normal things that had become so alien to him. Now, he could get get back to where he had been, and he was looking forward to it. Slowly, Raph allowed himself to relax and for the first time in a really long time, his sleep was dreamless and calm.

It really was good to be home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey everyone! Happy Holidays and Happy New Year! Thank you to everyone who has been reading the story so far, and to those who were kind enough to support it by following, favoriting, and leaving lovely reviews! Your feed back is so important, and I encourage anyone who has time to let me know what you think. It's food for the author's soul :). I sincerely hope that everyone enjoys this chapter!**

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Raph tugged at the collar of the red polo shirt Mikey had bought for him earlier that day as he looked around at the other patrons in Murakami's. It seemed that mutants and humans alike enjoyed the shop's Japanese noodle bowls, judging by the number of each group seated at the tables. This was no surprise, though. Murakami had always been extremely tolerant of mutants, even when they were still in hiding, and welcomed them with open arms when the equality law was passed. He had even been the one to give Mikey his first job.

The shop was basically the same as it had always been, except that a new, younger chef had taken up management a few years before. She had been professionally trained in Japan, then mentored by Murakami before his retirement, so she knew how to prepare all of the selections of ramen and soba noodle dishes for which the shop was well known. She had even been taught how to make pizza gyoza, a recipe that he had invented especially for the Hamato brothers.

Raph knew a lot about this new chef before he had even laid eyes on her. Mikey had spoken about Suki at length during his visitations. Most of the information that he had learned about her from his brother consisted of how she could make the gyozas better than Mr. Murakami had, and that she was a lot prettier than him too. In the twenty minutes since he and Mikey had walked into the noodle shop, Raph had decided that he liked her, and hoped that his little brother actually got the date he'd been trying to get for almost two years.

"What's taking him so damn long?" He grumbled impatiently, looking toward the door. It was bad enough that Mikey had stuffed him into this monkey suit, but Leo was already fifteen minutes late. He'd even made the damn appointment; how hard was it to be on time?

"Chillax, bro. He texted me like, five minutes ago and said he was on his way," Mikey said before turning back to continue flirting with Suki. Judging from her smile and laughter at his cheesy lines, he seemed to be making progress to getting her elusive phone number.

Raph rolled his eyes and took a long pull from his third bottle of strawberry Ramune. He hadn't seen the drink in so long, he had been puzzled when Suki had placed the first bottle in front of him when they had arrived. It had always been his favorite, and he gratefully chugged the whole bottle before he even thought about thanking her.

If Leo wasn't there in ten more minutes, he was going to leave, no matter what Mikey said.

"Hey Raph."

He turned sharply and saw his older brother standing at his elbow. He was dressed in a suit jacket and khakis with a blue tie, the same shade as his mask. He looked more like a school teacher than a ninja master. His serene face was alight with smiles, not the disappointed grimace he had always held when visiting him in prison. When Raph stood to greet him, Leo threw his arms around him, though he couldn't reach around his widened body. Several of the patrons smiled indulgently at them before turning back to their noodle bowls.

"Whoa, easy there, tiger. We're in public." Raph said, awkwardly patting the top of his brother's head. Leo broke off the embrace after a few moments, straightened his tie, and settled himself on a stool beside him.

"Sorry I'm late. Class ran long, then I had to get home and change."

Leo owned and operated a ninjutsu dojo, something he had dreamed of doing for years. He particularly offered after school classes for underprivileged kids from the area, human and mutant alike. He treated each of his students the same, not favoring mutants over humans, or vice versa. Instead, he focused on teaching them the values of peace between the species and love for the art they were learning.

There were people who believed that he should have offered segregated classes to appease parents, but Leo did not agree. He had received more than his share of death threats from both humans and mutants for refusing to incorporate such a policy in his dojo. The vulgar graffiti that had been painted across the front of the dojo earlier that day had been the least of his worries, though no one had had the courage to confront him face to face. He had too many friends in high places.

Suki grandly set three wooden trays in front of the turtles, each lined with steaming, caramel colored dumplings. The scent of them had Raph's mouth watering and his stomach rumbled loudly. He had been looking forward to this all day, ever since Mikey had suggested going to Murakami's for dinner.

"Three orders pizza gyoza for Murakami-san's best customers. _Douzo meshiagare_ ," she said with a respectful little bow.

"Thanks!" Mikey said as he started to chow down on the cheesy dumplings. Suki flashed a quick smile at him before turning to speak to an elderly couple on the other side of the hibachi.

"So, how's the dojo?" Raph queried, trying to be conversational. He did not want tonight to be filled with awkward silence.

"Not bad," Leo said, shrugging noncommittally. "Don't have very many students, but the ones I have are great."

"Is your golden child still taking lessons there?" Raph asked facetiously as he popped one of the gyozas into his mouth. It tasted better than he remembered, like heaven wrapped in a floured package.

"Chloe? Oh yeah! She never misses a lesson."

"And she brings him tea _all_ the time," Mikey teased from around a mouthful of gyoza. Leo flushed and gave his little brother a half hearted glare.

Raph remembered seeing the little girl for the first time years ago, and how his fight with Slash had destroyed her bedroom. He still couldn't believe that his brother had been duped into playing tea party with her. It turned out that she had never forgotten that, and the second week that Leo's dojo had been in operation, she had been there, ready for her first lesson.

"She could compete internationally, and I'm thinking about making some calls to get her some sponsors." Leo continued proudly as he dipped his gyoza deftly into a dish of wasabi.

Raph threw the last gyoza into his mouth and sighed with satisfaction. He would not ever take real food for granted again. Anything was better than the dog food he'd been subjected to eating for the past eight years.

"You know what you're gonna do now?" Leo asked curiously, tilting his head to the side. Now it was Raph's turn to shrug.

"I dunno. Look for a job. Save some money. Stuff like that."

"You know, the father of one of my students manages a bunch of warehouses on the docks and he's looking for a few workers. I told him you'd give him a call."

Raph's pride smarted at the impertinence of his brother's remark. Working in a warehouse? Just loading and unloading boxes for the rest of his life? The thought of doing work like that didn't appeal to him at all. He was more than just muscle.

What if he didn't want to do that kind of work? He had hoped to be doing something meaningful with his life now that he had it back. If he settled with this option, he'd be stuck in a dead end job and probably would never get out. Pursing his lips, he shook his head definitively.

"No thanks. Don't think I'm cut out for warehouse work." He picked up his bottle of Ramune, hoping it would put an end to this conversation.

Leo's brow furrowed with annoyance. "Raph, be reasonable. With your record, you won't be able to do much better than this. They pay really well, and the work is right up your alley."

Raph clenched his jaw as he struggled to keep himself under control. What the hell did Leo know about what he wanted to do? Had he even bothered to ask him? Hell no, he didn't...

"Right. Mindless, grunt work. I'll pass."

He drained the bottle, though it lacked any real taste for him at the moment. Leo sighed resignedly and set down his chopsticks. _Shit, he's gearing up for a lecture..._

"Raph, listen to me… I'm just trying to-"

Raph interrupted him without ceremony by slamming down the empty bottle with more force than was necessary. He did not have the patience to be putting up with this kind of shit anymore.

"What? Trying to do what, Leo? Run my life like you did when we were kids?"

Leo silently waited for his brother's tirade to end before patiently continuing.

"No, I want to help you, Raph."

"Maybe I don't _want_ your help!" Raph retorted hotly, "Did you ever think of that? Maybe I can take care of myself!"

Mikey glanced sheepishly around at the number of curious people who had turned to find the source of the upraised voices.

"Dudes, do you have to do this _now_? People are staring…"

"Who fucking cares, Mikey?" Raph asked loudly and glared at the onlookers. Most of them turned away quickly to their meals, not wanting to be the target of his wrath. "They're gonna stare anyway. Might as well give them a hell of a show."

"Language," Leo mumbled under his breath, but loud enough for Raph to hear. That was the last straw. He whirled on his brother, his voice rising with his temper.

"There you go again! Tryin' to be like Master Splinter. Well, here's a news flash for you, _Lame-o-nardo_ : he's _dead_! You better get used to it, because it's been ten fucking years! It's about damn time you grew a pair and started thinking for yourself!"

Leo's face flushed, then whitened as his lips pulled back into a furious snarl. When he spoke, his voice was low and dangerous like the hiss of an angry King Cobra.

"Don't you _dare_ drag Master Splinter into this, Raph. You should be glad that he never got to see the mess you made of yourself. And it really only took you less than a year after he died to screw your life up."

Shame flooded every particle of Raph's being at the taunt, and it fueled his ire into a full inferno. The fucking prick had gone too far this time. He stood, his body quivering with pent up rage and he desperately wanted to throttle the son of a bitch right there.

"You wanna start somethin' here, motherfucker?!"

"Go to hell!" Leo shouted, nostrils flaring as he lost his temper as well.

"Guys!" Mikey cried desperately, but was interrupted by a sharp smack on the counter behind him. Both turtles turned abruptly to meet the hot, indignant glare of the little Japanese proprietor.

"Enough!" Suki shouted, slamming her open palm on the counter once more. Her round face was creased into an angry scowl as she swept a manicured hand in an arc around the dining area. "No fighting in my restaurant! You want to fight, you take outside! You disturb my customers!"

Raph realized then that the restaurant had grown deathly quiet. Every eye was fixed on him and he imagined that they must be frightened of him, his size and his temper. Damn right that they should be. He growled and spun away from the table, knocking over the stool he'd been occupying. Everyone in the immediate vicinity started nervously with the clatter of the heavy stool to the floor.

"Forget it… This was a bad idea. I'm just gonna meet you back at the apartment, Mike."

"Wait, Raph!"

Raph ignored Mikey's plea and pushed his way out of the noodle shop, leaving the ogling stares of the patrons in his wake.

The night was chilly, due to the rain earlier that day, but his blood was so heated that he barely noticed. He stalked down the street, muttering resentfully under his breath. Despite what he had said to Mikey, he didn't want to go home yet. He needed some time to clear his head; to breathe in the cool air and get his emotions under control again.

It really hurt that everyone felt like they had to treat Raph like a small child. He had made one mistake… Well, it was more like a royal fuck-up, but that was years ago. He'd learned his lesson and had turned his life around. He wasn't the same stupid kid he had been back then, so why was that so hard for people to understand?

As he walked, he came to the uncomfortable realization that Leo might have been right back at Murakami's. Raph might have doomed himself to a life of mediocrity and just 'getting by'. As much as he wanted to think that he was going to make something of himself like the rest of his brothers had, deep in his heart, he knew it wouldn't happen. He was getting a late start. Eight years too late. He might as well get used to the mediocrity.

He sank down heavily onto a bench next to a dilapidated bus stop several blocks away from the apartment, hoping to collect himself before having to face his little brother's inevitable questions. The seat was lumpy and protested loudly at the application of his weight. Raph scrambled to his feet, taken aback by a grubby looking homeless man whose sleep he had disturbed when he'd sat on him. Beady black eyes glared up at him from beneath a tangle of dirty grey-brown hair, mashed over his forehead with a stained snow cap.

"Sorry! Didn't see you there..." Raph apologized sincerely. He must have been so wrapped up in himself that he didn't notice the guy there. The homeless guy snorted like a congested warthog as he looked Raph from head to foot.

"Fuckin' dirty mutant," he grumbled resentfully and rolled over, pulling a sheet of newspaper over him to cover him from the chill.

Raph's fists contracted and his vision clouded red. This grimy little man was calling _him_ dirty? Who the fuck did he think he was? He grabbed the man by his scruffy collar and dragged him roughly to his feet. He snarled in the man's face, his pungent stench filling his nostrils.

"Got a problem with me, do ya?" Raph fumed. The bum looked scared to death, like he was caught in the clutches of Godzilla and was about to be eaten alive.

"Please! Don't hurt me!" He begged desperately as he struggled against Raph's grip. Twisting around in his tattered jacket, he cried out more earnestly. "Help! Help me! He's gonna kill me!"

Raph looked up sharply in the direction the bum was shouting and saw two mutants and a human standing on the sidewalk a few hundred feet away, watching the scene with large, concerned eyes. One of the mutants said something to the others, then the human nodded and reached into his pocket for what Raph assumed was his cell phone.

Immediately, Raph dropped the homeless guy onto the sidewalk and stumbled backward. The familiar fear of a caged animal crept up into his chest, clenching his heart in a vice grip. He'd be sent back to jail for sure if he didn't leave now. He couldn't go back there... He wouldn't. He'd rather step out onto the New Jersey Turnpike at rush hour with a blindfold than be sent back to that place. The accusing glares of the onlookers spurred him into motion and he ran as fast as his legs would take him in the opposite direction.

His apartment building rose into view, and he pumped his legs harder as he bolted to the front door. He knew that he didn't have anything to fear now, but he couldn't seem to get his heart rate down to normal. Barely noticing the indignant glare from the super, and the concerned glances of several of his neighbors, including Mrs. Jorgenson, Raph bounded up the wooden stairs two at a time in his hurry to achieve sanctuary in his apartment.

Mikey appeared immediately from his room when Raph shut the door of the apartment behind him. He was still in his dress clothes from dinner and was holding a doggie bag from Murakami's in his hand. He must arrived home just ahead of him. The younger turtle opened his mouth to say something, then stopped abruptly when he saw the grey tinge to his brother's usually vibrant green skin.

"You look like you've seen a ghost, brah. You okay?"

Raph shouldered past him and stalked into his room. Slamming the door shut with enough force to crack the jamb, he swore and sat down in the edge of his bed. The adrenaline was slowly wearing off and his muscles were shaking from reaction. He buried his head in his hands, applying pressure to his temples.

It had been a close call back there. No matter how hard he tried, or how he dressed himself up or how he may act in front of a crowd, there was no changing what he was: a thug and a monster. If those people hadn't been there, he probably would have beaten that guy to a pulp, and probably would have enjoyed it.

 _Tap, tap, tap._ A gentle rapping at the door interrupted his thoughts, and his brother's concerned voice reached his ears, muffled through the wooden door.

"Raph?"

He really didn't want to have Mikey hovering over him, so he ignored the entreaty, hoping that his brother would take the hint and leave.

"Raph? You okay, bro?"

"Go away, Mikey."

He had expected to hear his brother's footsteps retreating slowly from the room, but to his astonishment, there was more heavy pounding at the door and Mikey's voice came through louder, and with more authority.

"Dude, open the door."

He was shocked at the tone Mikey had used. The little shit was actually telling him what to do? What was with everyone tonight? Were they all _trying_ to piss him off? Abruptly, he sprang to his feet, marched to the door, and threw it open. Mikey flinched in the face of his brother's ire, but he stood his ground, eyes level with his. Raph got right up in his face so that he wouldn't be misunderstood.

"Clean the wax out of your ears, Mikey! I said, I wanna be left _alone_!"

Mikey didn't back down. Rather, he drew himself up, trying to make himself look bigger and more intimidating. He tried to keep his voice level as he spoke, but Raph could tell that he was nervous to be in this position.

"Look, I know Leo pissed you off earlier, but pouting in your room like you did when we were kids isn't gonna help."

Raph raised an eye ridge at his brother, surprised. Had Mikey always had this much backbone? He didn't remember Mikey ever standing up to him like this before, ever. Usually, he would have let him have his space.

"I don't have to explain myself to you, so fuck off!"

He tried to slam the door closed, but it bounced harmlessly off of Mikey's foot, which was wedged into the door jamb. Raph stared at the foot, then at Mikey as he pushed the door open. He wasn't going to give this up, and he evidently wasn't going to allow Raph to shut himself up in his room either.

"You know that he's just trying to be a good big brother, right? He sulked like crazy when you went away," he said as he flipped on the bedroom light. Raph squinted against the sudden illumination and cast his eyes to the floor. Mikey shook his head as he continued. "He really thought that what happened to you was _his_ fault. I think he just wants to fix what he thought he broke. He legit thought at he was helping you, dude."

Raph grimaced. In hindsight, it did seem like the way that Leo would do try to be helpful, even if it was thoughtless and rude. In record time, Mikey had broken down his defenses and taken away the motivation for his anger. He even felt guilty for causing such a scene in the restaurant. Even worse than that, he started to think that perhaps he owed Leo an apology. _Oh God,_ he thought sullenly. _I must be losing my fucking mind._

"Have you always been this annoying?" he asked with a frown. Mikey shrugged innocently.

"Yeah, but most people call it charm. Well, at least Suki does."

Rolling his eyes, Raph shook his head, trying to be exasperated, but he couldn't keep the light smile off of his face. Mikey grinned triumphantly, knowing that he was successful in pulling his brother out of his black mood. He lunged forward, grabbed Raph by his massive bicep, and dragged him into the living area.

"You know, Halloween is next week, and Donnie got me a sweet HDTV Flatscreen for our last Mutation Day," he observed nonchalantly and nodded at the large television affixed to the wall. "And you, my friend, have a lot of monster movies to catch up on."

"I ain't watchin' any of that B movie crap that you like," Raph grumbled, crossing his arms across his wide plastron. He remembered being forced to watch _Attack of the Squid People Vol. 3_ with Mikey when they had first moved into the apartment, and that had been more than enough. Mikey pouted in the manner that only he could get away with.

"I can assure you, my dear brother, once you watch the masterpiece that is _Sharknado_ , you will not be disappointed."

Raph raised an eye ridge, still skeptical. He'd heard of this movie, and it was supposed to be piece of shit. Picking up on the negative signals, Mikey looked around frantically for an idea to get his brother to stay.

"Come on… You can even have the Mikeynator 5000…" he urged enticingly with a grin. Raph's eyes traveled, unimpressed, to an overstuffed recliner, covered with ugly brown leather that sat directly in front of the television.

"You mean the recliner?"

Mikey looked almost appalled, as if Raph had insulted his grandmother. Theatrically, he placed a hand on his plastron and staggered back a pace. Trust Mikey to ham up a performance, even when it was unnecessary.

"Recliner?! Oh, you poor uncultured boy. This is no ordinary recliner… This," he waved grandly over the leather covered chair, like he was a salesman on the showfloor of a warehouse sale, "is a state of the art conduit of comfort for TV watchers everywhere. It has four cup holders; count 'em, _four_! And it has a cooler built into the side of the chair! Take a look!"

He pulled open a hatch in the side of the chair, displaying a shallow cooler filled with rows of aluminum cans of Mountain Dew. Raph nodded, impressed in spite of himself. He had to admit; it was a sweet chair. Folding his hands, Mikey stuck out his lower lip and put on his most adorable pleading expression, one that he knew that his brother had a difficult time refusing. Raph released a deep sigh before straightening.

"All right, fine. You win."

Mikey cackled triumphantly as he dropped onto the large sofa and grabbed the remote to dial up the movie. Gingerly, Raph settled himself into the recliner, hoping that his weight didn't crack the chair in two. It held, much to his relief. He settled back and pulled up the foot rest, making himself more comfortable. As Mikey found the movie and hit the 'play' button, Raph wondered if the movie would surprise him and prove his earlier assumptions wrong.

It didn't.


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey everyone! I apologize for the long time between publications, but thank you to everyone who has read the story so far and to those who left feedback! You have all been wonderful and so patient with me, so a huge kudos to you all! Enjoy the story :D**

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The longer Raph sat in the lobby of his apartment building waiting for Donnie to show up, the more irritated he got with the fact that none of his brothers seemed to have the ability to tell time. What was with his brothers always being late? Didn't any of them own a fucking watch? But then again, it wouldn't be the first time that one of his brothers had flaked on him for one reason or another. Donnie had already delayed his visit to New York by a full two weeks, blaming his busy schedule and mechanical projects that he had to supervise or else risk losing months of work. Raph wouldn't have been too surprised if he called and cancelled altogether.

In the two weeks since he had been released, Raph was slowly struggling to adapt to the normal world, which seemed so strange and open compared to the confining environment that his old jail cell had been. There was a lot that he had to catch up on, and he had hit the ground running to get started. He had gotten hammered at bars with Sam and Casey several times and had acquired several substantial hangovers, napped in the Mikeynator 5000 in the middle of the day; hell, he'd eaten four loaded pizzas in one sitting while binge watching The Walking Dead just because he felt like it.

When he wasn't doing those things, Raph went through the motions: wake up, clean the apartment, exercise, apply for work, get turned down for the work because of his record, go home. It was the same continuous yet dead end cycle. Unfortunately, part of that dead end cycle included the tedious bureaucracy that came with his release. He'd had his first meeting with his parole officer, a sweaty pig of a man named Hal. He was nice enough; asking how his transition was going and gave him a handful of faded pamphlets offering different services to parolees. While the effort was tired and obviously half-assed, Raph could see he was sincere enough. There was only so much the guy could do for him. He was going to have to do the rest of it on his own.

Raph sighed and rubbed at his temples roughly. The job that Leo had basically promised that was waiting for him had been worse than a bust. Apparently, he had failed to mention that Raph had been incarcerated for a violent offence, and that had not sit well with the manager. The man had retracted his offer in a heartbeat and had quelled in terror when delivering the bad news to Raph. He knew it was too good to be true. It was already an uphill battle and at the moment, he couldn't quite see the end of the road. He had to figure out another plan...

"Hey Raph."

Raph looked up sharply and saw his little brother, dressed in an expensive, but casual sweater over a button up shirt and khakis. He was wearing thick glasses that he hadn't needed when they were kids, and his face looked even more lined with age than his brothers' but it was definitely Donnie.

"Took ya long enough," Raph quipped as he stood. Donnie rolled his big red-brown eyes at the response.

"It's good to see you too, bro."

He clasped his brother in a large bear hug, his long arms barely wrapping around his muscular shoulders. Raph didn't feel nearly as awkward as he had when Mikey had first tackled him a couple of weeks before and he returned the gesture warmly.

"What the hell took you so long?" Raph asked when he finally disentangled himself from the embrace. "You tell me to get dressed up and ready at seven, and I'm still cooling my heels here at seven- thirty."

"Quit whining. The event doesn't start until nine. We have plenty of time."

Donnie pushed his glasses up against his face with a finger and Raph studied him more closely. He looked really old. Not in years necessarily, but his face was creased with lines of fatigue and stress. He wondered how long it had been since his brother had actually gotten a full night's sleep. It had probably been years.

"Come on, I brought something that I think you're going to like," Donnie said, gesturing toward the door. With a shrug, Raph followed him out of the building.

A sleek black luxury car was parked at the curb, with shining silver rims and the most professional looking detail that he had ever seen. Raph had admired cars like this one for years in magazines and ads on television, but this was the first time he had seen one up close. Whoever owned this beauty must be really ballsy to leave such an expensive car out on the street in this part of town. He was surprised that some junkie hadn't already boosted it to trade for a fix.

With a cocky smile, Donnie lifted his hand into the air and the car unlocked itself with a set of complicated whirs and clicks. Inadvertently, Raph's jaw dropped, and he was utterly lost for words.

"Close your mouth, Raph. You're going to catch flies."

Raph was too awestruck to be annoyed at Donatello's rib. He stepped forward, placed his large hands on the hood, which was still warm, and ran them over the shining surface in appreciative admiration. He could see his scarred reflection in the glossy paint, illuminated by the streetlight above his head, and in spite of himself, he was star struck. Finally, he pulled himself together enough to string together a coherent sentence.

"Holy shit, Donnie. This is amazing!"

Donnie grinned like a proud papa and patted the hood of the car with a gentle hand.

"Yeah, she's a beauty. I designed most of the components myself: clean energy engine components, state of the art security, the highest safety standards-"

Raph easily tuned out his brother's incessant nerd talk, but he couldn't take his eyes on the car. He had dreamed of being able to drive something like this his entire life, but it had never happened. For now, he was doomed to ride public transportation until he got his driver's license renewed.

"Well, hop in," Donnie said loudly, interrupting his abstracted thoughts. "We're going to be late for the show if we don't get started now."

With a soft whir, the door rose and Raph slid into the passenger seat, instantly overwhelmed by the smell of new leather from the seats and soft pine that was being emitted from a small green air freshener that swung from the rear view mirror.

"So, what's this 'big event' you're taking me to?" he asked, buckling his seatbelt. Donnie grinned mischievously as he turned the key in the ignition. It roared to life like a jaguar, then the sound reduced down to a gentle purr. Raph looked around, thoroughly impressed. His brother had built many very powerful and innovative vehicles in his life, but this one definitely outclassed the rest.

"Do you remember a guy called Dorian Hall?" Donnie asked while he steered the car away from the curb. Raph raised an eye ridge at him skeptically.

"The Fist? Greatest professional wrestler who ever lived? Hell yeah, I remember him. What's your point?

"Well, let's say a certain genius millionaire playboy scored tickets to go see him fight live. Ring side seats." Donnie looked almost smug with pride as he reached into the compartment next to his seat and pulled out two long pink event tickets. Raph threw back his head and roared with raucous laughter.

"I would be excited as fuck, but you lost me at _playboy_ ," he said, wiping his watering eyes with the back of his hand. "When was the last time you had a date, egghead?"

Donnie made a face and flushed darkly. "I date," he protested limply. "Though it's none of your business, I will tell you that girls like mutants like me. Smart, handsome..."

"Rich?" Raph grumbled ironically. Donnie's face darkened even more at the implication. He clenched his jaw and he stared straight ahead. Raph considered rubbing it in even more, but decided against it. It may have been years since he and Donnie had spent any time together, but he was no idiot. He knew when to quit. Besides, it has been a really long time since any woman besides April had paid _him_ any attention, even in a friendly way. He wasn't in any position to call the kettle black, or whatever the expression was.

"If there's beer and wings provided, I'm in," he said, leaning back in his seat. He couldn't remember the last time he was this comfortable in a car, or anywhere to be perfectly honest. "Couldn't convince Leo to come, huh?"

"No such luck," Donnie said, the knowing smile returning to his face. "He firmly refused to be a part of promoting such an 'honorless fighting style.'"

Raph rolled his eyes. _Of course he did,_ he thought cynically.

"One day Leo will work that stick out of his ass and actually have some fun for a change."

Donnie laughed loudly as they approached the bridge crossing over the river.. "Seems like some things never change. How are you liking life on the outside?"

Raph shrugged without interest. Anyone who knew him had asked him the same question many times over the past couple of weeks. "Eh, it's alright. I get to eat what I want, go where I want, and take a shit without anyone gawking at me. What's not to like?"

He didn't miss the concerned glance that Donnie threw his way, but he ignored it. It was the same look that Mikey gave him every day, and the same one that Leo gave him when he didn't think Raph was looking. He didn't need their pity, or their concern. He was a grown ass turtle, and he could take care of his own damn self.

"That's good," Donnie said, a little too brightly to be convincing. "Look, I'm sorry I haven't gotten to visit before now. Stuff got in the way and-"

Suddenly, dancing blue and red lights erupted behind them, and a loud squawk from a police siren broke the relative silence. Raph glanced into the side mirror and glimpsed the patrol car that was tailing them. In spite of himself, he felt butterflies in his stomach as unpleasant memories reappeared in his head. _It's just a traffic stop,_ he forced himself to remember. _Don't get your head screwed up._

"Oh damn," Donnie muttered irritably as he slowly eased his car to the shoulder and shifted it into park. "Maybe they changed the speed limit on this road while I was away."

Raph wasn't sure, but he highly doubted it. It was possible that they had glided over the speed limit, but he knew that there was nothing more suspicious to an idling cop than a couple of mutants cruising along in an expensive car.

A tall policeman with a large paunch of fat hanging over his belt appeared at the window and rapped on the glass twice. Donnie rolled it down with the press of a thick green finger. Looking up into his face, Raph could see the skeptical look in the man's dark eyes as he studied first him, then Donnie. There was a long, jagged scar running up the man's jaw, past his right ear, and up into his hairline. It looked like someone had attempted to cut the guy's throat with a hunting knife and missed the intended spot.

"Good evening, officer," Donnie said genially, offering the man a big smile. The cop didn't attempt to return it.

"Can I see your licence and registration papers?" His voice was gruff and low, like a chronic smoker's rasp, and his eyes flicked warily between the two occupants of the car. Raph kept his attention focused on the man's hand, hovering cautiously over the service piece that was fixed on his left hip.

"Of course. Raph, can you get the papers? They're in the glove compartment."

Raph pulled open the compartment and rifled through the contents. Donnie's organizational skills hadn't much improved since they were kids, based on the messy interior. It was like sorting through a recycling bin. Finally, he found the sheaf of papers he was looking for and passed them over to his brother. Donnie handed the papers, along with his license and mutant registration card, to the officer.

"Was I speeding?" Donnie asked as the policeman flipped through the documentation. "I've been out of the country for a few years and I'm not…"

"I need to see his papers as well," the officer interrupted, nodding at Raph. Donnie looked thoroughly baffled by the request, though Raph wasn't surprised at all. The cops checked mutant registration papers all the time, even when there wasn't really a reason for it. He pulled out his own registration card from his wallet and passed it to Donnie, who handed it to the officer.

"License?" the man asked expectantly. Raph shook his head.

"I don't have a driver's license," he said resignedly. The policeman arched a bushy eyebrow at him.

"Why not?"

"It's expired."

He frowned disapprovingly as he glared at Raph. The distrust between them was palpable, and he found himself wondering if it was a mutant who had given the guy his scar. It was a more than likely possibility.

"Sir, why do you need to see _his_ identification?" Donnie asked in exasperation. "All of my papers are in order, and _I'm_ the one driving the car. What is the problem here?"

The policeman grunted and walked away without answering Donnie's question. The turtle grimaced with annoyance as he settled back on the leather seat, drumming his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. Raph couldn't stand it anymore. It annoyed him to no end that Donnie was being so obtuse about this.

"You weren't speeding."

Donnie blinked and turned to face his brother, obviously confused.

"What?"

"You weren't speeding, dumbass."

"Then what…?"

"He thinks we stole the damn car," Raph explained, exasperated.

"He…" Donnie stopped, comprehension dawning in his face. His jaw set firmly as the policeman reappeared at the window. Without looking at them, he returned the cards and the registration papers.

"Everything checks out. Have a good evening."

"You too," Donnie said, mollified as he took the papers and passed them blindly over to Raph. He took them, then shoved them back into the glove box. It's not like Donnie would mind the messiness anyway.

The officer shut off his lights and drove away quickly, throwing gravel in his haste. After he put his cards back into his wallet, Donnie threw the car into gear and eased it off of the shoulder and back onto the road. Raph noticed that he was sticking faithfully to the speed limit, but didn't call attention to it.

"Leo said that the speciesism in this country had gotten worse," Donnie said after several miles of grim silence. "I just didn't realize it had gotten so… petty."

"Newsflash, braniac: the whole freakin' world is petty. Thought you were smart enough to figure that one out for yourself."

Donnie just huffed and stared straight ahead at the road, silently fuming. He had been living in a bubble in his little European laboratory for so long that it must be easy to forget that the world wasn't kind to everybody.

"You sayin' that you don't get the same kind of shit over in… wherever you live? Prague?"

Donnie sighed loudly. " _Geneva_ , Raph. It's in Switzerland. And no. There aren't many mutants at CERN, but the scientific community usually looks closer at my _work_ than at my _face_. They recognize that I'm a scientist, not a novelty with a cool talent."

"So mutants have it pretty good in Europe then, huh?"

"Europe is a lot more open minded about us'" Donnie said resignedly. "Yeah, we get stares every now and then and, sure, we get some hassle from people, but overall, they live and let live. As long as we don't hurt anyone, they accept us the way we are."

Raph didn't really feel like pursuing the matter any further, and Donnie didn't attempt to. Sullenly, he leaned back in his seat and stared out the window at the traffic crawling by beside them. He couldn't help but think that Donnie was one lucky bastard. He literally had everything: fame; such as it was, money, women, fancy cars, and a place where nobody gave a flying fuck that he was a giant talking turtle. It was actually really discouraging to see his brothers doing so well without him. He was fairly certain that they would miss him much if he just split town. Not that he could actually do that; since that would violate his parole and would earn him another stint in lockup.

It took them another thirty minutes to get to the stadium. There were dozens of people and mutants milling around the entrance as Donnie pulled up in front of the building. Some of them were speaking in groups, others taking selfies, and even more slowly filing through the doors, pushing their tickets through the admittance window. Raph craned his neck to look up at the lights roving around the towering facade, and at several large flashing LED signs that loudly declared the main event: Dorian 'The Fist' Hall versus 'The Lizard' Jaime Gomez. It was certainly a spectacle; much more flashy than it looked on television.

They stopped by the front doors of the stadium and a valet came forward, hand extended for the keys. Donnie dropped them into the man's hand as Raph pushed the door open and climbed out of the car. Several humans gave him the usual wary look before moving away, though several smaller mutants did the same. He ignored them and caught up with Donnie, determined not to let anything get to him tonight.

"So, how about that beer? First round's on me."


	5. Chapter 5

**Hey everyone! Another update in another week! Can you believe it! Thank you everyone who left feedback for me and to all of you who have shown your support by liking and following this story's progress. Also, I have more exciting news! Resilient has been nominated for a couple of awards in the 2015 TMNT Fanfiction Competition: Best Crossover/AU and Best Raphael! Go check out the ballot on Stealthy Stories and check out other amazing stories that are up for other awards! A HUGE thank you to FaithfulWhispers for the lovely cover art! You are the best hon! Thanks everyone and enjoy the chapter!**

* * *

Raph leaned over iron railing that lined the top landing of the stadium to get a better look at the scene below. The room was buzzing with the excited chatter of the spectators and alight with the flashes of thousands of cameras. Fans from both sides held up poster board signs that promoted their favorite fighters and two women in very revealing bikinis, patterned with American flags, strutted around the ring in four inch heels, each holding a sign advertising sponsors of the fight.

 _God bless America_ , he thought as he pushed back from the railing.

All around him on the landing, there were stalls selling various wares: souvenir t-shirts, stadium food like soft pretzels, hot dogs, nachos and popcorn, plastic replicas of championship belts, action figures of The Fist that spouted some of his more famous catch phrases and other trinkets that spectators could take home for the cost of an arm and a leg. The air was heavy with the smells of frying oil, butter and body odor; something that reminded Raph vaguely of the old lair in the sewers.

Grabbing Donnie by the arm, Raph pulled impatiently him toward a cart that sold hot dogs and nachos. The little vendor looked nervously between the two mutants, though he scrutinized Raph much more closely.

"What'll it be?" Raph asked, slapping a twenty dollar bill on the vendor's stainless steel tray. Donnie shook his head forbiddingly.

"I have to drive home, Raph. Just a Diet Coke for me, thanks."

"Your loss."

He took the drinks and and his change and followed his brother down the concrete steps into the arena. The space was crowded with mutants and humans alike. They were mostly ignored by the people around them, though there were some suspicious glares. Raph didn't care at all. He was practically giddy with the excitement that hung in the air like an infectious miasma and that made it easier to ignore the humans around them.

"You sure that the seats will still be there?" Raph shouted over the din. Donnie nodded with assurance as he pushed through the rows toward the ring.

"They had better be! Each of those seats cost a couple hundred dollars to get!"

The seats were, of course, taken by two college age humans, but one look at Raph convinced them to go back to their original seats. One of them dropped half a bucket of popcorn on the ground in his haste to scamper away. Raph watched them go with a sardonic shake of his head. _Damn kids..._ Raph thought sullenly as they sat down in their seats.

One of the girls walked by, still holding her sign over her head, and he watched her movements with the utmost interest. The girl caught his glance, and she gave him a meaningful wink. _She must be into bad boys_ , Raph thought with an amused smirk. Personally, he thought that she was too skinny, but there was nothing wrong with admiring a girl in a suggestive outfit like that.

The room instantly went dark and strobing lights danced around the ceiling. A man in a tuxedo and a crimson cumberbund stepped grandly into the ring, armed with a large, wireless microphone. Both of the bikini clad girls held up the ropes of the ring to let him in and flanked him as he strode to the center of the ring. Smiling with the ease of a practiced performer, he spoke into the microphone and his rich baritone echoed loudly off the walls.

"Good evening, New York City" the announcer bawled into his loudspeaker and the crowd whooped and hollered in excitement. Raph hooted right along with them, sloshing a tablespoon of beer from his bottle in his excitement onto his blue jeans. The man waited patiently for a couple of minutes for the noise to die down a fraction before he continued his speech.

"Tonight's match up has been long anticipated between these two rivals: The established Legend and the up and coming Alien. They have been battling for dominance for years and now, they are battling it out for the ultimate championship! Are you ready to RUMBLE?!"

The crowd roared and pounded their feet against the concrete floor, making the noise echo with the rumbling beat. Raph was completely invested in the show and crowed loudly in response. Donnie looked almost bored as he fished his smartphone from his pocket and began typing away.

"Texting your baby mama, Playboy?" Raph teased when he noticed that his brother wasn't even paying attention to the preliminaries. Donnie rolled his eyes and pushed his glasses further up his face.

"I've got to make sure that the schematics for the AI are being delivered to the right department."

"Couldn't that wait 'til you get home?" Raph complained with a scowl. Donnie shook his head, not taking his eyes off of his phone.

"Can't do that Raph. I have deadlines to keep, and working on the road is part of my job."

Raph didn't have time to call bullshit on him, because a drumming heavy metal song began to play and the strobe lights began flickering erratically from overhead.

"Ladies and gentlemen!" proclaimed the announcer. "Tonight's headliner has held your hearts hostage for fifteen years! He's the holder of five world championships and is now securing his sixth. Here's your favorite fighter and mine: Dorian "The Fist" Hall!"

There he Fist. Still wrestling after fifteen years, and still wearing the golden underwear that accentuated his manhood that he had won his first championship in the early nineties. His thick bronze mane was tied back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. He raised his arms to the crowd, and a roar of approval rose as he strutted down the causeway, his entourage flocking behind him like a pack of school children. The girls in the ring clapped for him and clung to both of his muscular arms in a show of deep hearted emotion, though Raph was sure that they didn't really care about him at all.

"And his opponent!" The announcer continued, "He first came onto the scene only a year ago, and has already knocked four wrestling champions flat on their asses! He's may be an alien, but he's out for blood in the wrestling ring! Here he comes: Jaime "The Lizard" Gomez!"

A large Salamandrian, huge and menacing, with thick muscles rippling under glistening black skin, paraded from beneath the iron archway. He was garbed in tight yellow shorts that hugged his thighs just above his knees with a hole cut out for his thick black tail. A chorus of boos and hisses filled the room at his approach. The Lizard held up both arms, much like his opponent had, but instead, he flashed both of his middle fingers at the crowd, turning in a three hundred and sixty-three angle so that everyone could get a good look at him.

"That guy has a brass set," Raph said, applauding approvingly as the Salamandrian climbed into the ring. The Fist flexed his muscles, much to the crowd's approval. The two fighters began trading trash talk; typical for a fight like this one. They bumped chests and growled in each other's faces, really selling their show.

Donnie yawned, stretched out his arms, and stood stiffly. _He even moves like an ancient turtle_ , Raph reflected thoughtfully. He couldn't help but be as worried about his brother as Donnie was about him.

"I'm going to get a refill. Want one?" Donnie asked as he held up his empty plastic bottle. Raph waved him away impatiently, keeping his eyes fixed on the fight above him.

"No thanks. You go ahead."

Donnie shrugged and turned to climb the stairs toward the top landing. Raph promptly forgot about him as the referee broke up the dick measuring trash talk and set them up for their fight. The ref gave the signal, the bell clanged loudly, and the two opponents circled each other, looking for an opening up attack. The Lizard made the first move, lunging at the Fist's legs, obviously hoping to take the wrestler off of his feet.

"Well hi there!"

Raph's head whipped around to see that a young woman in a cropped New York Yankees t-shirt had dropped into Donnie's open seat and was gazing up at him, her big blue eyes searching him with keen interest. Her black hair curled in messy ringlets around her face and cascaded down her back like a ebony waterfall. He was surprised by her sudden appearance, but decided not to challenge it.

"Uh, hey," he said awkwardly. He looked past her to see if Donnie was coming back yet, but he was evidently taking his sweet time in returning from the vendors.

"First time at a fight?" she asked conversationally, her voice raised to be heard over the clanging of the bell.

"Yeah. My bro got the tickets."

She nodded and settled back into the seat. Raph couldn't help but look at her. Her shirt slipped off one shoulder, exposing a lacy lavender bra beneath. He tried to tactfully avert his eyes, but it had been so long since he'd been so close to an attractive woman that he found himself unable to do so.

"I'm Inez," she said, holding out her hand to him. Hesitantly, he took it and was surprised how much he liked the cool, smooth feeling of her skin against his.

"Raphael."

"Oh my God; are you Italian?" She asked looking up at him with interest. "Or are you Mexican?"

Before he could answer, a loud slam and groan from the ring tore his attention drastically away from her. The Lizard had taken a massive hit from The Fist and had was now struggling to break free of his strong hold.

"You got 'im, Fist! Feed him his own tail!" Raph demanded excitedly, pumping his fist into the air. Inez threw his head back and crowed shrilly, completely oblivious to the annoyed scowl by the man at her other elbow.

"I freaking _love_ The Fist! I've been a fan of his since I was twelve!"

She swayed slightly in her seat as she lifted a half empty bottle of Smirnoff to her lips. She was obviously drunk, or at least well on her way.

"So... Have you always been a mutant, big boy?" Inez asked, her words slurring a little.

"As long as I can remember," he answered shortly. Her eyes widened and she leaned closer to him. At this distance, he could smell the sour stench of alcohol on her breath and see the haze of intoxication behind her eyes.

"That fuckin' _sucks_! You must have been one of those sewer mutants, huh?"

"Uh yeah..."

"What was that like?" Inez was sitting on her knees, her face mere inches from his. Raph cleared his throat and looked over her head again, looking for Donnie. There was still no sign of him anywhere.

"It was alright. We had what we needed, so we made it through."

"But it must have stunk like shit down there," she suggested, her nose wrinkling at the thought.

"We got used to it."

Inez tapped her long manicured finger pensively against the glass bottle for a moment as she processed what he had said, then her eyes brightened, as though she had remembered something. She leaned close to his face, wrapping her arm around his shoulders, and whispered in his ear.

"I've heard that the mutagen make _everything_ bigger. I bet it's true; isn't it?"

Her fingers brushed lightly against his lap, making him start involuntarily. Raph cleared his throat, a little uncomfortable with where this conversation was heading. She was hot, but she was also drunk and completely uninhibited. That was a hornet's nest that he didn't want to disturb. Gently, he pushed her wandering fingers away.

"You, uh, here with anyone?" Raph asked, hoping to change the subject. The woman pouted, obviously annoyed at this turn in the conversation and at the obvious refusal.

"My boyfriend, but he's being a prick, so I ditched him. He can find his own way home"

"That sucks for him."

"Yeah, well, he can kiss my tattooed ass," she crowed before tipping her bottle up and chugging the last of her beer.

Wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, she smiled up at him. Inez really was pretty, and had all of the curves in the places that Raph found attractive. She batted her eyes and leaned her head against his shoulder and this time, he did not push her away. Her scent was intoxicating and more arousing than he had believed possible. She must really be into him.

"It's kinda slow right now, why don't we... Go somewhere more quiet?" Inez asked suggestively, running her slender fingers up his scaly, muscular arm.

He was sorely tempted, and the way she was biting her full bottom lip made his tail begin to grow hard. His mind started to imagine all of the things that he could do to her, and he was sure that she would let him...

"What the _fuck_ is going on here?!"

Raph looked up at the man standing over them. He was large and had a thick black mustache perched on his upper lip. He glared fiercely at the two of them, and Raph could almost see the steam rising from the man's coiffed head. Inez went instantly white to the lips and staggered clumsily to her feet.

"I- Baby, He was forcing himself on me-"

The man grabbed her by the arm and pulled her roughly toward him. His face had turned an ugly shade of violet and his mustache quivered with rage.

"You disgusting little whore!" He screamed in her face, bathing her in outraged spittal. "You'll go after anything with a dick, won't you, slut?"

He slapped her hard across the face. She cried out in pain and Raph was instantly on his feet. There were many things that made him angry, and senseless violence against women was near the top of his list.

He grabbed the man by the shoulder, spun him around, and punched him hard across the jaw. The man flipped over four occupied seats and fell heavily into a puddle of soda on the floor. With a snort of derision, Raph stepped into the aisle and bent down toward Inez, who was holding her cheek protectively.

"You okay?" he asked. She nodded shakily, then gasped as large arms circled around his neck and denim covered legs hooked around the back of his shell. With a grunt, Raph grabbed the arms and threw his assailant over his head on top of the first guy. He wasn't surprised to see it was a different guy than before: a burly black man with lightning bolts shaved into the hair on the sides of his head.

People were shouting at him and retreating away from the brawl, but Raph didn't pay them any attention. The guy rebounded well enough, only having a fresh cut on his forehead from where he made contact with the plastic seats. He and two more men stood and closed in on Raph, the shorter of the two cracking his knuckles menacingly.

"Boy, you done fucked up this time," the black man said with a malicious snarl on his lips. He aimed a punch at the side of Raph's head, which he ducked easily. Raph grabbed his forearm, swung him around and he knocked him into the short man, while kicking the other in the sternum. All three men went tumbling to the ground in a heap. The one whom he had kicked stayed down, but the other two clamored to their feet and charged him again.

"Stop it!" Inez was screaming behind him and very faintly, Raph could hear Donnie bellowing at him too, demanding that he back off and that he was throwing his life away all over again. But he was in full battle mode. These guys were leaving either in an ambulance or in a hearse.

The mustached man was back on his feet and he bellowed when he charged at Raph, his first raised. He deflected the punch, brought his knee up into his stomach, then kicked him in the face, breaking his nose. The man screamed as he went down and the other two attacked together. Raph ducked and threw the short man over his shoulder, before sweeping the other's feet out from under him.

Something heavy slammed against the back of his head and shattered on impact. It hurt like a son of a bitch, and Raph roared like a wounded lion. He whirled on the punk kid who had hit him with a beer bottle and kicked him so hard in the knee that he could swear he heard the bone shatter. The kid screamed in agony and went down hard, holding his crooked leg.

"Security! Break it up!" Strong hands grappled his arms and Raph instantly gave up the fight. Raising his hands in the air, he allowed himself to be surrounded by four security officers, one of them a mutant. They began roughly pushing him away from the ring and back toward the entrance, probably to a holding area for drunk and disorderly trouble makers.

Raph saw Donnie as he was being led out hoping to catch his eye, but he was too busy shouting into his cellphone. Either Leo or his lawyer, he supposed.

 _Oh shit_ , Raph thought, belatedly remembering that this was going to get him in some serious legal trouble all over again. He'd broken the kid's leg, probably given each of the others a concussion, and God knew what other injuries they had sustained. He could plead that he had been provoked and that he was protecting that girl, but he was sure that that wasn't going to help.

They shoved him into grey room with a bench affixed to the farther wall and a window, no bigger than a breadbox, positioned a few inches from the ceiling. Even if he wanted to run, there would be no way from here.

"The authorities will be here soon to deal with you," growled one of the guards impatiently. Raph had enough sense not to say anything in response. That would be asking for even more trouble.

One of the security officers, a mutant with the face of a Schnauzer stayed in the door for a moment longer than the others. His muzzle was grey while the rest of him was dark black. His dark brown eyes looked undecided for a moment before stepping further in toward Raph.

"Listen to me, turtle. They're going to find a way to pin this all on you."

"I know."

"Stick to your story." The dog said, ignoring Raph's comment. "They attacked _you_. Maybe they'll slap you on the wrist for it and let you go."

A voice whistled from the hallway and a chorus of laughter followed close behind.

"Barkley! Here boy!"

The security officer bristled at the blatant insult, but instead of being baited, he turned back to Raph.

"Don't let them tear you down, turtle. Soon enough, they will get what they deserve."

Long after the dog left the room and locked the room after him, Raph couldn't help but wonder what he meant by that.


End file.
